Fanatic
by labrinthine
Summary: Having fans that love you is just as dangerous as having fans that hate you. rated T for language and minor violence. undecided pairing, comment suggestions. post-cars 2. Alive!Doc Humanized
1. Prolouge

Lightning knew the faults of being a celebrity. He was often on the recieving end of a constant stream of rotten words and harsh judgement by people who had never even met him. Looking back to previous interviews and words that had come out of his own ignorant mouth he wouldn't be suprised if he was hated back then, but he really had changed!

of course, since his stay at radiator springs and his change of heart he had been shown in a better light, and some had even come to admitting that he was a better person after his disappearance. He had done that little stunt with giving up the cup to help the King, which had painted him as the golden boy of racing for a while, but nothing gold can stay, right? Soon enough whisper went about saying it was all a publicity stunt, and that the entire thing was scripted. first of all, do they even know how racing works? A crash that bad wouldn't be attempted as a damn_ publicity stunt_. It infuriated him that people could possibly think that the King agreed to be flipped dangerously while his wife was expecting him home for retirement the next day!

And after the stress enducing World Grand Prix it traveled like wildfire that Lightning McQueen and his buddy Mater tried to blow up the Queen of england, which did not gloss over well with the media. To be honest, i think i'm gonna have gray hairs from all of this stress and trauma this has caused. I'm still thankful to Sarge and Fillimore for switching out the fuel, they saved me and my car. I am happy for Mater, he's dating a fine young woman, and i'm sure they'll be together a while. (not to mention shes a spy, along with Fimm McMissile.)

But i guess it doesn't really compute that having fans that love you is just as dangerous as having fans that hate you. That never really enters your mind, huh? That someone who watches your every race and adores you could possibly think of causing you harm?

I didn't either.

Not until i was starring down the barrel of a gun.


	2. Chapter 1

My hands immediately took to the air as a sign of surrender and the Cafe went silent. No one dared to move, afraid it would set this young woman off. I managed to bring my eyes from the revolver and to her face, where I captured as many details as i could. If she didn't kill me, I'll have to make a statement for the police, and tiny details are important.

She had long blonde hair, obviously dyed, that reached down to her lower back. Her eyes were green, but judging by the redness of her eyes and the trace of plastic over her eyes I can safely say that green wasn't natural. If she had freckles, i would never know, she wore so much makeup it was hard to find any defining point on her face except the tiniest scar on her upper lip. I met her eyes again and felt myself shiver, a cold sweat broke out across my body because what i saw reflected there was a sense of detachment that didn't bode well for anyone here.

"Get up" her voice was quiet, hard to hear to even my own ears.

"What?" if she didn't want to kill me, then what was she planning on doing?

Her voice was smoother now, "Get up and follow me, or I'll blow your friends' brains out" the gun tip was gesturing over to where Mater and Sally were watching the spectacle happen.

Standing as quickly as I could, I kept my hands raised, "If you try anything I will kill you, and you buddies here too."

I wondered fleetingly where Sheriff was, if not here probably patrolling. He wouldn't be able to come to my rescue now, nor would anyone else.

"walk in front of me and be sure to go out the door. No tricks, Love." The term of endearment took me off guard, i had expected a hater who had gone a little to far, but she said love as if she genuinely had feelings for me.

Turning towards the door i felt her press the gun tip to my lower back and i escorted us out She directed me toward a silver Toyota Prius, and i wondered if my friends had the idea to take down her plate numbers. Quietly we got in and she started it, i could hear the distant sound of police sirens and wondered if she'd kill me if we got caught. I didn't have to wonder about getting caught long, because while this car may look small she obviously engineered it to travel at higher speeds than average. We were out of Radiator Springs in record time.

"I won't tell you my real name," were the first words said to break the tense silence, "But you can call me Loviatar."

Loviatar was the name of the Finnish goddess of pain and said to be Plague personified, that couldn't be a coincidence.

"I wish we could have met under better circumstances, but at least I didn't have to kill you."

"I appreciate not being shot, thanks."

for the first time in a long time, I'm truly terrified of whats going to happen to me.


	3. Chapter 2

by the time they had reached their destination, an apple pie country home, a seed of rebellion had planted itself in My mind, growing and flowering into full-fledged resistance to everything she ordered.

"Step out of the car, McQueen." I can tell her patience is growing thin, the smooth edges of her tome are growing razor-sharp. I will not give in.

"No" I respond quietly, defiant as I can be. It shakes my will when i feel the cold metal against my ear, but I'm certain she won't kill me.

"I can let you walk out, or I can drag you out. Your choice." Every bit of fondness in her voice was gone, replaced my harsh malice. I do not budge.

A quiet sigh of "I warned you" is my only sign before she violently pistol whips me, I'm out almost immediately.

It's better than being shot.

My senses come back slowly, and i dare not move until completely sure of where i was. Everything felt a little hazy, and for a moment I'm sure i don't have a brain any longer. Slowly flexing each of my fingers and toes, i asses my current physical state. I'm hungry, of course, we'd been on the road for hours without break and it felt like someone had cracked my head open (a very real possibility, Loviatar was stronger than she looked). Further into my investigation i was aware that i was not in the clothes i started with, my jeans had been traded out for hospital scrubs and my jacket and t-shirt were replaced with a loose tank top. It didn't seem that anything had been... tampered with, but it still made me uncomfortable that i had allowed this to happen. I should have been smarter, resistance would have gotten me nothing but an injury. A weakness.

"I know your awake." was spoken somewhere to his right shoulder, How long had she been there?

Sitting up from my face-down position on the floor, i turned to look at her. too late i realized the error of my actions, throbbing pain ripped through my skull and i flinched. Peering through the fog of pain, i caught her smiling, her teeth almost seemed canine in a way. Sharp, meant to inflict pain. I didn't want to know what she had planned for me.

"Oh how I enjoy to watch you suffer..." Suddenly she was a breath away, her green contacts gone, revealing the crystalline blue. They were the color of the ocean, and if she were any other person, i would have complimented her.

Her hand wrapped around my jaw, and with a violent shake she took in my squeezed shut eyes and grating teeth like they were drugs. She was addicted to my pain and she didn't want to get clean.

"You have such beautiful eyes..." Her breath inched it's way down my neck, and with a violent pull she crashed our lips together. My teeth clicked painfully with her but she continued with so much force I was sure I was going to crack a tooth. With the violentness of her move, he was again thrown head first into a world of pain so bad it felt as if he had no strength to push her away.

"Such pretty eyes..." She mumbled into the kiss, "Maybe... Maybe I'll keep them"

Horror kick started the adrenaline in his body and he pulled away to the best of his ability, waves of pain kept him from moving far, but she didn't pursue him. Backing himself into a way he glimpsed her stepping away from him through his fading consciousness.

"Oh darling... you may not be fond of me now, but you will grow to love me." She smiled, but it looked more like a grimace, "Even if i have to beat it into you."

His consciousness faded, and he welcomed the escape.


	4. Chapter 3

as soon as the glass door swung shut, Flo's café erupted into chaos. They didn't dare go after them, to afraid of being shot or getting lightning shot. Flo ha th phone in her hand in record time, calling the Sheriff to alert him of the kidnapping and Sally was furiously scribbling own the licence plate of the Prius they were stepping into. They were all confident Sheriff could catch them, that is until they took off faster than they had seen a Prius move. Not even Doc could catch them with their head start.

Fear settled in like lead in everyone's stomach, what was going to happen to their friend? Was he going to be killed, or held for ransom?

Sheriff burst through the doors, looking angry and put-out, "I couldn't catch 'em." he sighed softly, "Did any of you get a good look at the guy?"

"It was a girl." Mater muttered, looking deep in thought. "I'm gonna call Finn and Holley in, they're spies. They can help!" Whipping out his phone, he stepped out into the fresh air and made the call.

Sally had been silent the entire time, still reeling from the fact her boyfriend had been kidnapped in broad daylight and gun-point. Traumatized or not, she had to help in some way, but first she had something to ask, "Where's Doc?"

Sheriff rubbed at his face tiredly, his age taking a toll on his stamina, "Still chasing after their dust, far as I can tell... He's gonna blow a tire, and then were gonna have to go get him."

the door chime signaled Doc's late arrival, "You don't have to get me, I lost 'em."

"You never had them in the first place." he muttered, Doc glared but he paid him no mind.

"I got a good look at her, I could provide a description...?" Sally offered tentatively, hoping someone else would step up to the plate so she wouldn't have to.

before they could reply, mater poked his head in the door, "They're here."

"What? Really?" Doc rose to his feet and followed Mater outside, where Siddeley was parking his jet, Finn and Holley inside.

Sally and Flo followed suit, "How'd they get here so fast?"

"They were heading here anyway, something about a mission gone bad" Mater replied distractedly, focusing on his friends' plane.

As soon as they could, Finn and Holley stepped off the plane and strode purposefully towards the rag-tag group of friends, determined to help them find the missing celebrity. Finn was wearing black pants and a black long-sleeve shirt, Holley was dressed similarly. It made sense, they had just come from a stake out mission and looked like a mess. Finn made it to the group first, his brown hair frizzled out and a hard look in his eyes.

"Description?" Their was no time for hello, and Sally nodded to him once. He led her back into the Cafe, and grilled her on the details.

"Okay, uh, she was blonde! Had long hair that reached her lower back... her eyes were green and she didn't really have any freckles of defining facial features..."

"Clothes?"

"Oh! Um, blue skinny jeans, a pink sweater, and boots. wait, she also had a tattoo! on the back of her head. It was a... god, what was it?"

"An animal?" Finn prompted, worry laced in his voice.

"Yeah! It was a lion with eight legs. Does that mean anything?"

Finns face was grim, the tension in his shoulders was clear and the anger sparking in his eyes told Sally everything she needed to know.

"How bad is it?"

they locked eyes d a moment he hesitated, "They call themselves The Jumalat."


	5. Chapter 4

When he awoke the second time it felt as if he had a particularly bad hangover, which was an improvement to the pain he had felt earlier. With this relief came more awareness than before, and with a small start he realized a blanket was carefully placed across his shoulders. Did Loviatar...?

No, that wouldn't make any sense. She had stated before that she enjoyed his suffering, so why would she give him this luxury? Then again, his holding cell wasn't necessarily uncomfortable. It was underground, most likely a basement, and furnished with a small linen couch, a table with three chair, and a bed in the far right corner. They all had the same pristine white color that gave the room a hospital feel, but the grimy light fixture gave the room an eerie edge.

Stuck to the bed was a sticky note, peeling it off he read it quickly,

"My dear thunder-storm,

I'll let you live if you do what you're supposed to do...

Play your role correctly and you can see your friend again.

With love,

Loviatar"

Diagonal from him was a stairwell, and underneath it was a door that lightning assumed went to a bathroom. There was no toilet in the main room, so he hoped that's what it was. There's not much else it could be.

Except maybe a dungeon.

He didn't really want to think about that.

ignoring the pulsing pain in his head, he got to his feet and lightly tread across the carpet to investigate the door. Logically he knew it was most likely a bathroom, but his imagination got the best of him and he slowly approached the door. Silently he twisted the knob and peaked in...

...and it was a bathroom.

How anticlimactic, he thought, deciding to go ahead and investigate the tiny room. Inside was a simple shower, toilet, dresser, hamper, and sink. He didn't expect much, so this seemed better than nothing. Stepping across the tile, he glanced at himself in the mirror and froze. Slowly he brough his hand up to touch the dried blood on his forehead, before bringing it down to touch the purple bags under his eyes, then the swollen split lip caused by the earlier make out session.

he hadn't even realized she had split it.

he also took a moment to run his finger through his drastically shorter hair. Still enough to grab and pull, but not long enough to tie in a pony tail. The redness of his hair mingled with the blood brought out the stark paleness of his skin, white enough to concern him. How much blood had he lost? There as no pool in the other room, so she must have brought him inside while he was still bleeding and done all the little changes she wanted to before placing him in her little Barbie dream house?

How long had he been unconscious? She had been waiting for him to wake, so it must not have been long. A day at the most, he decided, before noticing the hinges on the mirror. Swinging it open he found a new in-the-package toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, along with floss and small containers of shampoo and conditioner. A Small note was duct taped inside.

"Dear bolt of electricity,

There's a medical kit in the dresser! Hope your teeth are sharp, wouldn't want to give you any scissors!

with love,

Loviatar"

He was confused.

The whole situation confused him, and his headache didn't help in the slightest.

Placing the items back in their respective place he turned towards the dresser and pulled open the doors. Inside were a pile of red towels, stacked high and all shoved to the right side, on the left were pile upon pile of the same out fit he was already wearing. No deviations from the color red.

He had been correct in his assumption of hospital scrubs, chosen most likely because of their flimsy material. She wanted him to be cold, but she had given her a blanket. Her bipolar moods were more confusing than anything. Pulling oped the top drawer he found what he was looking for and grinned lightly. Gently pulling out the kit he opened it to reveal several antiseptic wipes and gauze, along with gloves, band aids, and medical tape.

Closing the lid and placing it back in the drawer he eyed the shower warily. It would be nice to get the grime and blood from his skin, but he wouldn't want someone barging in or video taping him.

Sighing softly he knew taking a shower was the best course of action. If his head wound was as bad as the blood-loss suggested, he needed to get it cleaned and wrapped up before it could get infected. Stripping quickly he grabbed the hair care products and stepped beneath the water, the warmth instantly relaxed his stiffed muscled and eased the throbbing in his head, and he dreaded stepping from out from beneath the waters force because he knew deep down he would be thrust back into the harsh reality of where he was.

Never the less, he stopped the water and dressed quickly before tending to the wound, wincing every time he applied antiseptic. Biting down on the gauze to split it apart, he watched silently as it rolled underneath the sink, catching bacteria as it did so. sighing gently he tucked the excess gauze underneath his wrap and got on his knees to retrieve the run-away bandaging. As he pulled the roll into his hand, he spotted it.

The bloody piece of paper stuck to the bottom of the sink by duct tape.

Peeling it away from it place he read the simple note and his heart constricted.

He wasn't going to get out of this alive.

He never was.


	6. Chapter 5

_Dear whatever poor soul is next,_

_She won't film you here, in the bathroom, but the entire place out there is bugged. She likes to think she has more class than that, but the fact that she cut off my pinky says otherwise._

_Anyway, if you're reading this, then I'm dead. I'm not the first and I won't be the last, you won't either. she says if you play your role then you will survive- she's lying. It's like a play, but everyone has a script but you._

_A woman is going to come soon, if your still alive right now you probably haven't met her yet. she will take one look at you and if she says "no" then within 2 hours you are going to be sacrificed. Right now im going to take my last shower then I'm going to die. I'm warning you so that you have a chance._

_Good luck from sacrifice 13._

Holding the piece of paper to his chest he finally let out a little sob, which transformed into a total mental breakdown.

He was going to die, it was almost certain, and he wouldn't be able to see any of his friends ever again.

No... no. He couldn't give up. If he gave in to helplessness he would never survive, he had to be strong, he had to fight. He would not let them kill him. Crumpling up the note he flushed it own the toilet and cleaned the blood from the sink, he didn't know what number he was be he would make sure he was the last. No matter what it took.

He heard a door open above him and flushed the blood smeared toilet paper down the toilet before emerging from the bathroom to face her. So he was surprised when it wasn't Loviatar, but a small child who barely looked over 12. She had brown curly hair and hazel eyes that stared at him unwavering. She was clad in a baggy black and white striped sweater, black skinny jeans, combat boots, and white gloves. She would have been cute except for the skull-themed face paint she wore and the blood stain across her chest.

"Are you... Hurt..?" He honestly could not tell if that was her blood or not, but a lingering voice in the back of his head knew it was not.

She shook her head.

"You're the girl aren't you? The one whose gonna get me sacrificed?"

She stared at him silently. He was becoming agitated, if this was the girl then why didn't she just get it over with!? They were being taped anyways...

She raised her hand slowly and began to slowly form words is ASL, and he was extremely grateful for the classes he had taken during college.

[I stop Tape.] she used tape as in sticky tape, but he knew what she meant. [you famous. you help]

He lowered his voice but didn't sign, her grasp on the language was amateur at best and he didn't want to confuse her, "Who are you?"

[I T-a-m-a-l-i-a. I decide gods] That's what the man in the letter meant, she said no if you weren't a god... but how could she tell? He didn't personally believe in these gods, but how were they sure? How could they be?

"How?"

She looked troubled for a moment [Unnecessary. You help me? Escape? I say yes, you help me.]

He was confused at her behavior, why did she want him to agree to help her? Was it a trap? Somehow he didn't think so. She genuinely wanted out of whatever this was. She must be Loviatar's daughter or something and he knows this is no place for a child to live.

"How far are you willing to go?"

She looked at him grimly [To the stars and back]

"They call themselves the Jumalat."

Sally waited for more, but Finn seemed reluctant to share any. After what seemed like a life time she whispered almost silently, "How long does he have?"

He wouldn't look her in the eyes, he couldn't. He was a spy, he worked in the shadows, he never had to break bad news. He didn't know how, and he definitely didn't know how to handle tears.

"With all we know about them... He's probably already passed on." He couldn't bring himself to say 'dead' as a cracked sob drew from her lips and her eyes widened with tears.

"I'm sor-"

She stood up so fast her chair clattered to the floor, dragging everyone's attention in the room to the pair. Leaning over the table she looked him straight in the eyes and hissed low enough only for him to hear, "Do not tell me you're sorry. Don't you dare. He could still be alive, and I'm going to find him. No matter what."

Angrily turning away from him she stalked away to talk to Holley and give her the same description she had given Finn. The master spy let his shoulders sag and his eyes to flutter shut in exhaustion for he had been on a stake out not long ago. His bones felt like they were starving for any bit of rest he offered, but he would not allow them the satisfaction of sleep just yet, he had a friend to track down.

grabbing another cup of coffee he sat at the same table as before and began reading through the details again, which only served to confirm his suspicions. The Jumalat had him, but for what? That seemed to be the question for all their murders, Why? They weren't connected. A dentist from Massachusetts, a Dog breeder from Moscow, a beginning actor from California, even a food vendor from china. The only thing they had in common was their gender and hair color. All red heads of various shades, so was that the only reason he had been taken? For his hair color? No... no. There had to be a pattern other than that! They passed over many towns containing a large amount of red heads, and it also seemed it didn't have to be natural as several had been dyed... so what was the pattern?

What could it be?

"Finn." He had heard her coming but he still jumped, "It's almost 2 am. Go to bed."

"Holley, this isn't like a normal case where i can just 'go to bed'! Lightning's counting on me, everyone's counting on me, every second is a second where they finally decide to kill him."

"Finn, i know you were friend but your no good like this! Even Doc turned in for the night." Her voice was laced with worry, but she knew how to break through to him.

"If we can find a pattern we can trace all red heads and maybe it'll give us a clue to where he is... I have to..." Even the best of spies couldn't stay awake for long, and his eyelids began to droop ever so slightly.

Quietly she helped him to his feet and led him to his Cozy cone before heading off to her own.

It was silent in his room as he began to drift off, and a very quiet voice broke the silence.

It was slurred and sleep heavy, but you could obviously, make out his next words.

"The Hospital name."

If only he had remembered that in the morning... It would have saved everyone a lot of anguish.


End file.
